To Simply Carry On
by Ashleigh94
Summary: Just as Tim and his new girlfriend settle into their relationship, a mystery mental illness threatens to tear them apart. Will the team be able to help them in time?. Tim and OC centric but with a lot of nice moments from the rest of the team.
1. Prologue

When she woke a few hours later the hazy light of the setting sun poured through the window and fell on Tim's face. He was awake and had turned over in the bed so that he was facing her. In her sleepy state she briefly made eye contact but closed hers again with a sigh and prepared to vacate the bed. She was halted in her progress by the feel of his fingertips being gently brushed over her jaw bone. Evie froze and opened her eyes again; Tim's gaze had left them to fall on what she suspected was a nasty bruise, judging by the pain emanating from the light contact.

"I did that." He said. It was a statement rather than a question. Evie squeezed her eyes tightly shut for a moment, relieved that he was finally calm, she forced herself to breath slowly and quietly and tried to think of how she could get back into her own bed without provoking him again. When she didn't respond Tim removed his gaze from her jaw and back to her eyes, what she saw in that gaze forced a soft gasp from between her lips.

The beautiful large green eyes that she had fallen head over heels in love with had long since been dulled by the illness that had taken her future from her. They had become blank and staring windows into the clouded reality of Tim's mind, a harsh and constant reminder of what he had become and all that she had lost. Now though they were brighter, brought to life by the added dimension of emotion and shone with intelligence and lucidity.

The pink glow of the sunset gave the scene a dreamlike quality and Evie was afraid to speak, terrified the sound would shatter this delicate moment and she would wake up.

"Tim?" she managed eventually in a strangled whisper.

He moved his hand to rest on her neck and used his thumb to stroke her cheek.

"I'm sorry" he replied softly, his expressive eyes searching her face.

Evie shook her head and placed her hand over Tim's, "don't worry about it, my darling" tears slipped over her nose and dampened the pillow beneath her other cheek "it wasn't you." She turned her face a little and pressed her lips hard into the heel of his palm.

"Hey" said Tim with a reassuring chuckle, wiping the tears from her face before shifting closer so that he could place a loving kiss on her forehead "don't cry sweetheart, it's okay."

Evie let out a sob at his affectionate tone, his kind words and his intimate touch. She had lost all hope of seeing him like this ever again. Tim continued to stroke her hair and cheek patiently while she regained her composure.

"Yeah" she sniffed, "yeah, it is." Mirroring Tim, Evie brought her own hand up to run her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Good." Tim smiled, a genuine warm smile, full of love and laughter. "Do you want to watch a movie?"

Evie wanted to cry. She wanted to bury her face in Tim's chest, hold him tight and never let go. More than anything she wanted to pad into the kitchen and make up some popcorn while Tim readied a cheesy RomCom in the bedroom, then she wanted to get under the covers together, to make fun of the soppy gushing of the characters on the screen, to kiss, to laugh, to flick popcorn at each other… then to fall asleep together; Evie with her head resting comfortably on Tim's shoulder, his strong arms wrapped protectively around her, one of her own arms laid on his chest, to be lulled into a carefree sleep by the gentle motion of each other's breathing. She wanted that more than anything.

"No" she said, returning his smile with a watery one of her own "can we just stay in bed…like this?"

"Sure" he said with a lazy sigh "like this is good."

Evie allowed herself to relax slightly, her head sinking further into the pillow. She took his free hand in hers and held it down between their bodies. Then she pushed one leg between Tim's and placed the other on top, trying to increase their points of contact without taking her eyes off his. She didn't dare blink, hoping to get lost in the emerald pools of his tender gaze. She tried to absorb what she was seeing, to commit the sight to memory, desperately praying it would last, all the while knowing it could not.

They lay together on top of the covers, legs entwined, holding hands, touching each other's faces and looking into each other's eyes for over half an hour. The sun slipped lower in the sky so that the hazy pink melted into a warm orange that filtered through the window and bathed the bed's occupants in gorgeous light. By now a small crease had appeared above Tim's nose, between his eyebrows as if he was trying to concentrate, the frown was almost one of confusion.

"Please don't leave me Tim" the soft plea was barely audible yet racked with emotion. Tim traced the shape of Evie's lips with his finger.

"I would never leave you Evie." He replied gently. Evie nodded, even as another tear soaked into the pillow. Over the following ten minutes Evie watched as Tim's peaceful smile began to fade. So too did the recognition in his eyes until suddenly he snatched his hands away from her and batted hers away from his face. He blinked absently at her once or twice before rolling over so that she was presented with his back and pulled himself into a foetal position.

"This is my bed," he mumbled into the crook of his own elbow "go away."

Evie rolled over to lie flat on her back and stared at the ceiling as silent tears flowed from her eyes. Tim was gone again. It had been over four months since his last lucid moment and Evie had given up on the possibility of another glimpse of the man he had been before. Now she wondered if the pain was worth it. The room was dark. She glanced towards the window, the sun had finally fallen below the horizon and the sky was an inky blue. Evie couldn't breathe. A hard weight of grief and fear compressed her chest and she pressed her hands over her mouth to stifle the loud sobs that threatened to erupt. She managed to keep quiet but a wave of fresh tears cascaded down her face and her body shook the bed as she supressed the moans.

"GO AWAY!" She physically jumped and let out a yelp at Tim's bellowed command before quickly jumping off the bed and running out of the room, closing the door behind her.

She made it into the bathroom and managed to brace herself against the sink. She sucked in great shaking heaves trying to calm her breathing and keep the tears at bay. After some time, Evie had regained enough control to pull her chin from her chest and look into the mirror over the sink. Her face was flushed from the effort and her dark brown eyes bloodshot and rimmed with red, the shadowy circles beneath them a testament to her exhaustion. Most alarming was the deep purple bruise on the right side of her jaw, spreading over her cheek from where Tim's fist had made contact with her face. She stared at it numbly for a moment, finding it difficult to feel anything at all. Suddenly a flash of white hot anger overwhelmed her; she picked up a glass candle holder and smashed it into the mirror. Both shattered on impact, the mirror cutting into her knuckles while glass shards embedded themselves deeply in her palm. The pain didn't register, but the act of violence gave her the fleeting impression of relief. She flung the rest of the bathroom paraphernalia off the sink with a swipe of her arm, the soap dish and ceramic jar containing her and Tim's tooth brushes broke apart with a satisfying crash against the wall. Evie's knees gave way and she sank to sit on the floor amongst the mess. The few seconds of silence that followed the act of destruction were themselves shattered by a howling moan. Evie cried. Long sorrowful sobs were forced cruelly from her throat and shook her body mercilessly. There seemed to be no end; half a year of dashed hopes, worry and exhaustion poured from her and she was helpless to stop it. She allowed her legs to stretch out in front of her and laid her bleeding hand on her lap, her other hand still clutched the edge of the sink desperately as if to keep her head above water. After what could have been hours or days for all Evie knew the noise stopped but the tears fell ceaselessly. She stayed in that position dozing between restless sleep and horrific reality, a trembling heap of heartbreak and exhaustion until the morning, when Tim called for her to make him breakfast.


	2. Customer Service

**AN: Thank you everyone who have reviewed so far, you were encouragement I needed to carry on writing. Please continue to leave constructive criticism, I am especially interested to read what people think about the characterisation of Evie as she is the most rounded OC I have ever created. **

**This chapter has no beta so please let me know if you spot any mistakes and if anyone is interested in beta-ing further chapters please get in touch.**

**I hope you enjoy.**

Two years earlier:

Computers really were not Evie's thing, she would happily stick with good old fashioned pen and paper given the choice but everything was done electronically now and had been for a long time, so she really shouldn't have been so surprised that the death of her laptop had left her feeling completely afloat. After only a couple of days of hard copies and telephone communication her desk was covered in the remains of a small forest and her voice mail was full, forcing her to venture into the unfamiliar white and chrome world of Best Buy. Evie hated these places, the powerful air conditioning left her throat uncomfortably dry and the florescent light that flooded the cavernous space was hurting her eyes. Evie longed for the musty crampedness of the second hand book shop huddled at the other side of the car park but she was not yet ready for the sickeningly over enthusiastic sales pitch of a young store clerk that would inevitably come when she finally asked for help. In the corner of her eye Evie could see one hovering a few feet off; a lanky teenager bouncing impatiently on the balls of his feet was obviously itching to offer whatever assistance he could, so she continued pretending to read the specs of a sleek ultrabook with rapt understanding. One of the things Evie definitely didn't miss about her home country was the appalling levels of customer service.

Nothing on the box made much sense to Evie so on the third time of reading she simply allowed her eyes drift dispassionately over the words, so uninterested was she that it didn't take much for the conversation of two approaching men to quickly catch her attention.

"Where did you think they all came from Tim, I don't think they even make that model anymore?" Came the first voice sounding amused if a little impatient.

"It sounds dodgy to me, I don't think the Boss would be happy if he knew where his phones come from." Drifted over the second voice warily, a little softer than the first.

"Lighten up, McGee. As far as Gibbs is concerned he's only had one phone for the last ten years, its either risk him finding out that they came from a slightly questionable source or tell him he has to get an upgrade!" The second man snorted. "Sometimes you have to pick your battles."

"Fine," replied the second man, defeated. "But be quick, I don't want to stand around here all day."

"Don't try and pretend you're not in McParadise right now; go get your geek on, just don't show up the clerks, they don't like it!"

Evie heard an enthusiastic clap on the back and looked up in time to see the first man stride towards her. He was tall, a bit older than her, very handsome with chiseled features and dark hair and wore an expensive looking grey suit . He flashed her a winning smile as he passed which Evie couldn't help but return, the corners of her mouth twitching slightly. She subtly watched as he spotted a more senior member of staff standing behind the checkout and raised his hand to him, the clerk grinned conspiratorially back and motioned for the hansom man to follow him through a door into the back of the store. When both men had disappeared Evie heard a long suffering sigh sound softly behind her, she turned her head and used her peripheral vision to look at the man named Tim so that the young sales clerk wouldn't assume she was looking around for him.

The man named Tim was also tall but younger and slightly fairer than his friend. When the first man had disappeared into the back he turned inspect a display of hand held tablets with a sigh and a slight shake of his head. The man named Tim had a calm quiet air about him, unlike his friend who seemed to radiate confidence, and Evie found herself smiling as she watched him now studying the display with genuine interest.

Evie glanced back at the box she had been looking at for far too long then back to the man named Tim, before flicking her eyes in the direction of the young sales clerk. She bit her lip while she considered her options, from what the first man had said, his friend was knowledgeable about computers. She looked up again, the man named Tim was bent over slightly and a small crease had appeared between his eyes as he strained to read the minute writing off a box on the display. The frankly adorable expression helped cement Evie's decision and she replaced the ultrabook on the shelf before quietly covering the little distance between them, deliberately avoiding eye contact with the young sales clerk. Coming to a stop behind the man named Tim's left shoulder, she hesitated for a beat before speaking.

"Excuse me?"

The man named Tim started, straightening quickly and turned to face her looking flustered.

"I'm sorry," said Evie, embarrassed "it's just from what your friend said it sounds like you get this stuff," she gestured to the ladened shelves "and I really don't" she finished with a nervous laugh. As she spoke the man named Tim's expression relaxed as he got over the surprise of being sneaked up on. He had even started smiling slightly, perhaps in response to Evie's accent, in this case Evie really didn't mind.

The second man continued to smile at Evie for a time before seeming to realise he was expected to respond. "Sure!" He said, a little too loudly in an attempt to cover up his lapse, "what is it you're looking for?" The man had started to walk them back over to the laptop section as Evie explained her basic needs: email, word processing, lightweight - and he went on to point out the pros and cons of the various different models.

Evie listened attentively to Tim's (as he'd formally introduced myself as by now) explanations, which he kindly dumbed down for her benefit. She could tell that he was self-conscious of getting too excited about the technology behind the newest models and was obviously making an effort to wind his passion for the subject in; so Evie interrupted him occasionally, asking him to go a bit more in depth over a particular aspect, which he was clearly pleased to do. Now Tim was talking fast, pausing to take little breaths and Evie had to remind herself to focus on what he was saying and not on how cute it was when he smiled; plump lower lip stretching into a grin and fine crinkles appearing at the corners of his large green eyes. She definitely should be listening to the advantages of additional memory rather than enjoying the way she had to crane her neck slightly to make eye contact.

A few minutes later and Tim had stopped talking and stood proudly holding his final recommendation, presenting it to Evie with a flourish. Evie mentally shook herself and eyed the box with approval, deeming it a good choice and thanking him with a smile.

"Is that you done now then?" Asked Tim hesitantly.

"I suppose so." Confirmed Evie, "Good job too, your friend will be back soon." Tim stared at her confused for a moment.

"Oh Tony?" he exclaimed, chuckling at his own forgetfulness; "oh no, he'll be ages now just because I asked him not to. Shall we go to the check out?"

They made their to the queue slowly despite how quickly it was growing in length and then chatted as they waited in line. Evie told Tim about her job teaching English Literature at Waverly University and Tim, after a moment of hesitation, told her that he worked for NCIS. Evie didn't know what NCIS was and Tim laughed as he lengthened the acronym.

"Don't worry, no one knows who we are." He assured her when Evie looked embarrassed.

They soon discovered they both had military connections when Evie briefly mentioned that her parents were RAF; "Royal Air Force," she clarified with a smirk, and Tim told her that his father was an Admiral in the Navy. All too soon Evie had paid for her new laptop and Tim's friend Tony was coming towards them with a carrier bag containing a number of small boxes that Evie assumed were the dodgy mobile phones discussed earlier.

"Come on Probie," he said happily, not breaking his stride as he walked past them and towards the exit "don't want to keep the Boss-man waiting!" He shot a smirk at the pair over his shoulder and Tim grimaced, Evie suspected he'll be receiving some ribbing once she had gone. They followed him into the car park at a slower pace until Tim stopped at a black Sudan, his friend was already in the driver's seat and wiggled his eyebrows at them as he started up the engine.

"Well I better get going, it was nice meeting you." Sighed Tim.

"You too," said Evie, suddenly feeling awkward. "Thank you so much for your help."

"No problem," replied Tim. They stared at each other for a moment.

"Well bye!" They blurted out in unison. Tim nodded his head and Evie did a weird little bow before heading to her own car, silently cursing herself. She got about halfway when she heard her name called abruptly in a sort of yelp, she spun round to find Tim trotting towards her.

"Evie" he said again, "The day after tomorrow, well, its my turn to do the lunch run." He stopped and looked at her shyly.

Evie waited. "Yes, Tim?" she prompted, a small smile playing on her lips.

Tim smiled back. "Well, I usually go at one to the deli around the corner, you know it?"

"Yes."

"Yes, well if you were there that would be-" he stopped again.

"Good?"

"Yes," replied Tim breathlessly "yes, that would be good."

Evie watched him for a moment as he shifted self-consciously. She glanced over his shoulder to where his friend Tony was watching through the windscreen with bated breath, he averted his gaze when she rose her eyebrows at him. With a little laugh she turned her attention back to Tim.

"I would love to go to lunch with you, Tim." She said giving him a wide smile when his shoulders lost their tension and he let out a breathy chuckle.

"Great," he said "Okay. Friday, one o'clock, Red Deli?"

"Great." Confirmed Evie.

She stayed where she was while Tim ran back to the Sudan and got in, Tony peeled away from the spot and honked the horn at her when they passed. Evie rose her hand in farewell before walking over to her car and locking the new laptop securely in the trunk, heart racing all the while. She turned to lean against the bumper and ran her fingers through her hair, what on Earth just came over her? Never before had Evie been so completely pathetic when talking to a man, usually she could turn on the charm like the best of them but with Tim it was different. When he spoke, so animatedly and with such passion, Evie felt a kind of excitement she hadn't experienced before. Of course when she was younger she had felt the flush of lust when speaking to an attractive man, she would find herself fantasising about all the naughty things they could get up to and, more often than is probably polite to admit, she made those things happen. She didn't experience that while she spoke to Tim, sure she found him attractive, very attractive, but her mind hadn't gone to that place. Instead she imagined a hug, a chaste kiss and had felt the urge to hold his hand as they walked out of the store together. It was ridiculous! Evie had always considered herself an independent woman; but then she realised that the companionable closeness that she pictured with Tim was something she had been craving for a while, she had just never been able to put a finger on it before now. _Maybe I'm growing up?_ She thought to herself dryly. It had been seven years since she had left University, finishing her Masters degree before the age of twenty two. She had worked hard at her education, seeing it as her best route to independence and self-sustainability, and rewarded herself by playing hard too. Perhaps that sort of behaviour was reserved only for carefree students?

_No, you're just lonely. _That second revelation came as something of a surprise. Evie couldn't ever remember being lonely. Alone yes; more alone than most had ever been, but never lonely. Evie smiled to herself. This could be a good thing, now more than ever she felt that the move to America had been a good decision. In the two years since leaving England she seemed to have put the pain of the past behind her, no longer was she completely focused on the progression of her academic career in order to prove her own strength. The fire that had burned inside her for twelve years had subsided just enough to allow the need for something different to emerge. Family. That was the long and the short of it; Evie wanted someone to share the rest of her life with now that she finally felt ready to stop and enjoy it. Evie pushed herself away from the car and headed in the direction of the scruffy little bookshop. Now, maybe that person would be the stranger she had made lunch plans with for two days time and maybe it wouldn't. Either way, thought Evie as the tinkle of a bell announced her arrival in the shop, she was very grateful to him.


	3. Peace of the Delusion

**AN: I'm back! How are we all finding Season 12? Sorry it's been so long, I am new to the writing game so don't really have a system yet. I also just started University so have been a bit busy, hopefully I'll get into more of a flow (note that feedback is my fuel)! Some more OCs to sink your teeth into but there is much more of the team coming up so worry not :)**

**Please, please, please tell me what you think. Enjoy.**

Albert's wife hated magnolia. It was only a matter of time before she commented on the colour of the walls when they visited and would often bring postcards or flowers to "brighten the place up a bit". Albert spotted the most recent addition to the room; a small pot plant with long, thin, pointed leaves. He supposed Julia must have brought it with her when she last visited their son, Albert had been stuck in the lab at some critical phase for the last week so she had been coming in on her own. The plant stood out a vibrant green against the muted tones of the room but the leaves seemed limp, drooping despondently onto the bedside table. Albert lifted the water pitcher from the over-bed tray and half-filled a plastic cup. His movements sounded oddly loud in the quiet. Julia said she enjoyed the silence when their Bertie was sleeping; she said she could pretend everything was normal, that at any moment he could wake up and be fine. Albert couldn't help but agree with her now as he tipped the water into the side of the plant pot, watching the soil as it bubbled up and slowly receded again as the liquid percolated down. Bertie was just sleeping and his wife had just gone down the hall for some coffee. Albert sighed with a small smile, comforted by the thought. He lowered himself into a high backed chair and turned it to face his son in the bed. He observed the gentle rise and fall of Bertie's formerly muscular chest. Once, his boy had been strong; a good three inches taller than Albert's six feet and broad in the torso. Even before he joined the Marines he was well built, the training had only helped to shape and define his impressive muscles. Albert remembered with a fond chuckle how girls had flocked to him, immediately taken in by his impressive stature, his thick sandy blond hair and sharp blue eyes. Albert's own father had been prouder than Albert had ever known him to be when Bertie had joined up; at least one of the two men to be named after him had carried on the family tradition of military service. Albert's own paternal pride had even managed to swallow up the jealously he could have felt for Admiral Swanson's approval. Not only had his boy grown into a strong man but he was also a good man; honourable, brave and decent, that was all Albert had ever hoped for. The thin, hollow-cheeked young man lying in the bed before him was but a shadow of the powerful Marine Albert once knew. The brain damage he had sustained after a bullet to the head had left that man completely and irreversibly destroyed. The familiar wave of sadness that hit Albert once again at the thought left behind a swash of crushing fatigue that pulled on his limbs and neck, he had after all not slept in over forty-eight hours. Often when he woke Bertie could be violent, striking out at anyone or anything nearby or simply sitting up in his bed and screaming until he either passes out or is sedated. However, the nurse on duty when Albert arrived told him (in the familiarly cold tone most used when discussing his son) that Mr Swanson had fallen into a near catatonic state as of last night. These phases never seemed to last less than three days, so Albert felt safe enough to sink, as far as he was able, into the hard chair and allow exhaustion to tug his eyelids closed as he fell into a deep sleep.

Albert woke with a start to the sound of the door opening. His glasses had become lopsided from the way his cheek had pressed into his shoulder as head listed to the side. He wiped his eyes blearily before pushing the spectacles back over the bridge of his nose and rolling the kinks out of his neck. Expecting to see Julia in the doorway he turned in his chair with a self-deprecating smile to face her. The smile fell slightly when, instead, Albert's eyes met those of a pretty young nurse standing in his wife's place.

"Oh! I'm sorry Dr Swanson" said the nurse with sympathy, "I would have been quieter if I knew you were sleeping." Albert stood and shook his head as he smoothed the back of his suit jacket.

"Not to worry Megan, its time I got up." He had arrived at the centre at seven in the morning, if Megan was on shift it must have gone midday already - he ran his fingers through the thick hair he had passed down to his son, of course his was considerably greyer now - Julia should be here soon.

Megan smiled sweetly before she glided past him and began tending to her patient.

"Good afternoon Bertie!" She started in a cheery singsong voice, "how are you today?"

"He hasn't stirred all morning." Offered Albert flatly, which earned him another sympathetic look. Usually Albert would leave when the nurses came in but he liked Megan Dahl so instead he refilled the plastic cup and sat back down on the edge of the chair to drink the water while he listened to Megan chat away to her silent charge. That was the very reason he and Julia had taken to the young woman. When Bertie had first arrived at the centre there had been staff complaints and some of the nurses had requested to be taken off Bertie's rotation, unwilling to care for him "after what he's done!" The ones that remained were professional enough, they took care of Bertie's basic needs and were never cruel to him but the looks of distain they shot his way broke his parents' hearts. Julia despaired, they could not afford to move Bertie anywhere else in DC but Albert needed to stay in the capital for his work.

"They think he did it Albert," Julia had cried hopelessly "how can we leave him with people who think him capable of such awful things, they don't know him like we do?" Albert had made himself sick with worry, he went around in circles trying to come up with a way he could relocate his family but the large research grant he'd been given made that impossible. There was no way he could afford to pay the money back, which is what he would have to do if he didn't finish the project he was working on.

That was until one day when Albert and Julia sat together, waiting for a surly nurse to come and bathe Bertie, when this ray of sunshine came bustling into the room carrying a basin and sponge and introduced herself with a warm smile. After only a few moments in her company, Albert knew this girl was made to be a nurse. She was very young, perhaps twenty-three years old with a pretty face; small red lips and large doe like blue eyes. Her mousey brown hair was pulled neatly back into a fishtail plat that rested over her left shoulder. She was built right for the work; quite short at five foot and six inches but strong and fit. Most importantly what shone through was her open and compassionate nature, after dealing with insincerity since Bertie arrived, Nurse Dahl's eagerness to care and comfort stood out like a sore (but nonetheless lovely) thumb. Whether she knew about the crimes her first ever patient had been charged with on that first day Albert did not know. If not she would have found out about him fairly quickly but neither Albert nor Julia brought the matter up and Megan never changed in the kindness she showed Bertie or his parents so they came to the conclusion that their son had at least one ally in this place. It wasn't ideal but it was reassuring to know someone besides themselves could see the truth of his innocence.

Albert wasn't really listening to Megan's one-sided conversation. He sipped his water and let her comforting musical voice wash over him. Staring absently into the middle distance, his eyes eventually focused on the little pot plant, water had done it the world of good and its leaves hung looking much more healthy and turgid. He smiled softly at the plant over the rim of his cup.

A prolonged silence pulled him out of his reverie and drew his attention to the only other conscious person in the room who was stood at the end of the bed, folding a blanket and watching Albert with a most pained expression.

"Are you okay dear?" Albert asked kindly, he brought a hand to his cheek and wiped away a solitary tear without really registering what it meant. Megan slowly placed the folded blanket in the bottom of the bedside table before straightening up.

"I just wanted to say how sorry I am, Dr Swanson." She said in a soft voice over Bertie's sleeping form and he noticed the moisture collecting in her eyes. She was poised to start talking again and Albert knew that something awful was about to happen; he wanted to stop her or to run from the room, hands over his ears, so he didn't have to listen to what she had to say. As it was he couldn't move, the only response his brain could muster was to stare mutely back at her and wait. "Mrs Swanson," continued Megan "she was a lovely woman. I cried when they told me." She cast her eyes sadly to the floor and Albert wanted to kill her. He wanted to kill her for destroying the fantasy he had managed in his denial to believe. Albert swallowed hard as the last two days flooded back with such painful force he felt he could drown, and washed away the peace of the delusion he'd built around himself. Some of the rage he felt must have shown on his face because when Megan lifted her head again she took a step back; "I'm so sorry, Dr Swanson! If you don't want to talk about it I'll-"

"No!" Albert cleared his throat of the lump that had formed there and schooled his expression before trying again. "No" he said more gently, "no dear its fine, she was very fond of you too."

Megan relaxed again and gave him a sad smile, the nurse walked around the bed and put her hand on his shoulder. "If there is anything you need don't hesitate to ask." Albert managed a grimace but kept his eyes, once again, fixed on the pot plant as he nodded dumbly. "Okay" she gave his shoulder a squeeze before letting go, "I'm going to get Bertie a nutrient drip." With that she was gone, leaving Albert to the silence. The cup he was holding was now crushed in his fist so he got up and threw it into the bin. With Megan gone he could no longer convince himself to be angry at her, of course she would say something, it was his own fault for shutting down so pathetically that he got so upset. Now though he had nothing to direct the tide of emotion that had risen up at, it was too much to internalise, with a panicked sob he began pacing the small space between the bed and the door, tugging at his hair in his turmoil. He stopped suddenly when a desperate glance over the room fell on his son, Albert walked with slow clumsy feet to Bertie's bedside, trembling hands still clutching the sides of his head. "She's gone son" he whispered, barely parting his dry lips. Bertie remained still and silent as Albert gazed down on him, he seem completely untroubled by the death of his mother. Albert let out a shaky breath and lowered a hand to run his fingers tenderly through his boy's hair, he used the sleeve of his other arm to blot the moisture from his cheeks. Bertie's condition had taken so much out of Julia. When it first happened they were told in no uncertain terms by all the doctors that the damage to their son's brain was devastating and permanent. Albert was allowed to see the scans and had no choice but to agree with their prognosis; his PHD in Biomedical Engineering gave him a basic understanding of the brain, its anatomy and its chemistry. There was no way Bertie was coming back from that and he knew it. Julia had been much less pragmatic, looking up new fields of research and trolling the internet for miracle recovery stories. In the early days Albert was constantly assaulted with printouts waved with increasing determination in front of his face; he read them but would inevitably find the flaws, the ways in which Bertie's case critically differed in some aspect and Julia had hated him for it. He told himself that grasping the reality of the situation would make it easier to cope with but sometimes he envied her faith, it may have been nice to have had some hope to cling onto. Eventually Julia came to realise the truth of the matter, but the constant ups and downs of hope and despair had taken their toll and she wasn't the woman she was before. After eight hours of surgery, Julia's exhausted looking consultant had told Albert that the next forty-eight hours were critical: "it's down to her now, we can only hope she's got enough fight in her". Albert had told the man that she did but exactly twenty-seven hours and fourteen minutes later she left him behind. If she had been stronger she would have survived he knew that now, he now also knew who was to blame. The people who were responsible for all of this, if the arrogant bastards had done their jobs properly, hadn't jumped to ridiculous conclusions, hadn't in their ignorance sought to bring down his boy than none of this would have happened and Albert wouldn't be alone. Fury reared its head once more as Albert milled over the facts of the matter, though this time it was channelled into the appealing notion of revenge so that rather than turning into a trembling mess Albert smiled. It would take some planning, he would want to make sure that everyone of that incompetent team suffered for what they had done. He knew their names from the trail but he could imagine that the information he would need about the NCIS people to carry this off would be more difficult to obtain than for your average Joe. "Don't worry son, I'll manage it somehow" he promised firmly and he bent to kiss the boy's forehead just as Megan came back in.

"Are you leaving, Dr Swanson?"

"Yes." He replied with resolve. "I have work to do."


End file.
